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thought i was batman
557 Watchers65.9K Page Views213 Deviations

Tune in to Monster FM!

T

Tune in to Monster FM!

It's an earworm, probably. It's just you don't know what it is, exactly, that you're listening to. The worm burrows. You're slightly uncomfortable with this. It's one more thing to be self-conscious about. You're good at that. You want to object to its familiarity with the inside of your ear. You're in your body. You don't really want anyone with you. You tell yourself: listen to the worm, and it might go away. "Who are you listening to?" it asks you, and that's when you stop listening to yourself. You don't hate its voice. It's too soon for that. You like to give things time. You want to give your body time. Still, there's no love lo
9Comments

timepieces of a traveller

t

timepieces of a traveller

I. you bound to be gone II. you shake wind over your kin southern dark little brittle III. in a world of scorching the travel-idle dust looks so restless IV. with laughter harbour-deep you carve out of northern wilderness the bone clocks
0Comments

like a perpetual motion machine

l

like a perpetual motion machine

such angels and their halos wells of molten gold spilling on their necks without burning their dark skin full of bones and swords so unlike those demons who with the paleness of the parched thirst upon thirst and with clawed hands tear at their own throats both searching in ancient circles moved by the old hunger of souls
5Comments

A Ghazal of Eyes

A

A Ghazal of Eyes

At my spine is a harbour for a fear of eyes: the eyes that want to know me and your eyes. Yours want me wanting and known. I think of floods daily. They rarely close, your eyes. You asked if I was scared of being known, the dip of eyelashes on all-seeing eyes. I hid a small god in your goldfish bowl to make it true when I said yes, those eyes. Somewhere I am known and in love with you. It could be true. Can you imagine Mum's eyes? Warm, as she’d look at us over her chai and smile. Later you'll kiss me and tell me not to close my eyes. Perhaps I won't. Here, there is no puja that can pray away my fear, or with incense, hide all eye
4Comments

pilgrimage

p

pilgrimage

if there had been a voice the quiet had burned it. there is a distance to be crossed behind your closed eyes and no hands to guide only a voicelessness. somewhere a god is longing to be heard unseen and unlit but for the temple of your dark clasped hands and you both long for a wild beast who walks to you with aching feet across these vast deserts and who still calls out to you friend –
30Comments

Ghost writer

G

Ghost writer

I. I was born when you were born, skin to skin – embraced you like a long lost friend – stayed – with you, born with the brown skin of an old woman, thin and translucent to the touch, became a second skin for you, a little taller, my feet stifled underneath yours, became for you a cradle against everywhere your skin was. II. You know there is a ghost outside your skin, leaning on your shoulder. Fingers on your ribs. All your light is for it. It keeps your dark, too, makes the you in earlier photographs a darker-skinned, unknowable, silent body – do any ghosts know their bodies? Is this how the flame feels w
7Comments

dystopias of light

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dystopias of light

I. I had to build a house for light, to accommodate it: windows there, a hearth here, lamps above. I built a house for light to haunt. II. Neon, the cities burn at night and at day. They gave up their skies for electric light. III. Fair is lovely. Dark is a face upturned to the light becoming bowed. Fair is lovely. IV. This is the way infidels are made. 1. You didn’t look away, full of faith. 2. The gods turned into light and blinded you. V. Everything against this skin is light. VI. Drink? ; caught fermented in a glass, turned this way and that, turned treacherous, swallowing, the light drowned you. VII. Sunlight m
25Comments

The Gentle are the Strong

22Comments
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A Ghazal of Eyes

A

A Ghazal of Eyes

At my spine is a harbour for a fear of eyes: the eyes that want to know me and your eyes. Yours want me wanting and known. I think of floods daily. They rarely close, your eyes. You asked if I was scared of being known, the dip of eyelashes on all-seeing eyes. I hid a small god in your goldfish bowl to make it true when I said yes, those eyes. Somewhere I am known and in love with you. It could be true. Can you imagine Mum's eyes? Warm, as she’d look at us over her chai and smile. Later you'll kiss me and tell me not to close my eyes. Perhaps I won't. Here, there is no puja that can pray away my fear, or with incense, hide all eye
4Comments

Coppersmith

C

Coppersmith

I caught a sun gold. Trembling old in my cupped palm, quiet copper, as my rage on our queen, for so crippling me.   And how too did I rail – against you, Cyprian beloved? Understand: I grow too old for bows and arrows, Eros.
95Comments

The Old God, Savitr

T

The Old God, Savitr

ॐ भूर्भुव: स्व: तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं । भर्गो देवस्य धीमहि, धीयो यो न: प्रचोदयात् ।। I. The wind blew sand into your nonchalant soul, and your heart coughed. I entered the circle at night, and I was consumed by fire. I did not know of you then. I have fractured myse
86Comments

Scorn

S

Scorn

Her restless heart cries, Love! I am here to be found, Everywhere - here - following voices of all in Greece, Yet from her mouth, there is no sound. A fair nymph's merry voice once rung from sky to ground, Until the cerulean-eyed Queen gave it cruel release – Her restless heart cries, Love! I am here to be found. And vainly she, swift of wind, silent of voice, follows round Her beloved, who scorns her with lips of cerise –  Yet from her mouth there is no sound. The wind carries her silent lament, for he himself is bound To one who wears his scornful azure eyes and vain fleece; Her restless heart cries, Love! I am
45Comments

Coppersmith

C

Coppersmith

I caught a sun gold. Trembling old in my cupped palm, quiet copper, as my rage on our queen, for so crippling me.   And how too did I rail – against you, Cyprian beloved? Understand: I grow too old for bows and arrows, Eros.
95Comments

31:12N, 121:30E

N

31:12N, 121:30E

my Dear i just noticed my balcony is shaped like wings and the wind is billowing the moon up, up to-night in her dusty purple garb and i think no Dear i do not want to leave here: where men build bridges over oceans and live inside of mountains like river dragons where the sun shines not at all at noon but gleams like an orange at sundown where the moon walks home surefooted to where my neck cannot crane
118Comments

Rapunzel: A Recounting

R

Rapunzel: A Recounting

Ask nothing from the azure sky, and the blinding sun that burn bronze locks to gold, and corrupted me with candlestick and sunlight. Do you recall the child you delivered and deserted? Exile, I entered, and you left me to my evermore. Father, did you falter, when you followed her - my good mother, the witch? (Gather ye rapunzels and go.) Halt there, hurrying prince, in my ignorance, you steal my bliss. Joker, surely you jest? Kings and kin - kill me now if I am ever late - late! in love, in lie, and in line! Men are mountains: mote to crumble away. Never will the tales near normalcy: Omniscient is the overlord, and the princes
39Comments

today sky and grass

t

today sky and grass

today sky and grass are the same :- , and the sea is dreaming, peculiarly blue-mud particularly dull-life , and the field is courting the wind simply, with dandy lions. let the women work the sun's world , for many-then tell me -earnestly!- over a cup of smoke and tree: "it is a time to find love in palmistry" listen, "I have found a time to harness the sky with love clasped in my arms" . bird sigh sun drown heart dance , looking for Home(whoever; however) . listen - hooray, my sweet heart - to a greeneyed lad muse as joyful : as eros in silence
131Comments
Artist // Student // Literature
  • Sep 13
  • Deviant for 10 years
  • They / Them
Badges
Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)
BlackBerry: Exclusive Calendar of Tales Badge
I've seen it: It's Coming -- Stay Tuned!
Super Albino: Llamas are awesome! (260)
My Bio
Hi, I'm V. It's not my real name - not even close - but I'm Vigilo here, and I've been other V-beginning pretentious Latin usernames elsewhere on the internet for around six years now, so V works!


:iconthewrittenrevolution:

:heart:

I haven't replied to you yet because
- I reply at a glacial pace
- I accidentally deleted your message and can't find it
- I've awkwardly, silently backed away
- I've already replied to you by somewhere else
- I mentally replied to you and considered the matter closed
- I love you and I don't want to lower your opinion of me any further

Favourite Movies
Snowpiercer, Gravity, Pacific Rim, Kahaani, Singin' in the Rain, Looper
Favourite TV Shows
Elementary, Brooklyn Nine-Nine
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Pink Floyd, Loreena Mckennitt, Squalloscope, Simon & Garfunkel, Heather Dale, Billy Joel, R.E.M, Fleetwood Mac, Cranberries, Joanna Newsom, Jethro Tull, Doors, Janelle Monae, Queen, Beyonce, Lana Del Rey, etc.
Favourite Writers
Yeats, Cummings, Jeanine Gailey, Agha S. Ali, Lorca, Mary Oliver, Sappho, Whitman, Neruda, Anna Kamienska, Rilke, CS Lewis, Wilde, Pratchett, Gaiman, Wodehouse, Suskind, DWJ, Christie, Hamilton, Dahl, Asimov, Manguel, Calvino, Hanff, etc.
Tools of the Trade
alphabet, hands, brain (optional)

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TheLunaLilyHobbyist Writer
Happy birthday!
Your "I haven't replied to you yet because" list is the cutest and truest thing I've ever read.
Thank you for the :+fav:s!!
Oh damn, I was 100% sure your birthday was today, not yesterday D: Sorrysorrysorry.

Happy... uh, un-birthday!
VigiloStudent Writer
Don't worry about it! :lol: And, belatedly, thanks. :dummy: :heart:
HugQueen Writer
Happy birthday, my most loveliest Ilo-bear. ♥
VigiloStudent Writer
Thank you, lovely! :heart: